


D.Va Offline

by WumpaFruit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: D.Va needs some alone time, Gen, I mean that's at least semi-public right?, Masturbation, Semi-Public Masturbation then I guess, She does it on a rooftop? Who does it on a rooftop?, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:32:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WumpaFruit/pseuds/WumpaFruit
Summary: D.Va takes a break from her busy heroic lifestyle to get back in "touch" with her old friend Hana Song.





	D.Va Offline

Parked on the rooftop of some high rise apartment complex and bathed in the neon blue of the Kings Row skyline, a lone MEKA vessel was the only one to hear the soft sensual moans of one very aroused Hana Song. 

They called her D.Va when all hope was lost and the world needed a hero, but on this particular night, at this particular hour, all was calm and quite, giving Hana a chance to put aside her duty and be a normal girl for a few hours. She lay on top of her Mech, its defense protocols deactivated, her Bunny Blaster holstered, and the compression mechanism of her skin tight flight suit undone so that it draped loosely over her petite figure. No one would find me up here, she thought to herself again and again, hoping to diminish the doubt and embarrassment telling her that this was no place to rub one out. But she’d been on duty for way too long, and the mechanical vibrations she felt in the cockpit of her Mech as it rumbled in flight stimulated her body in ways that a hormone addled teen wasn’t fully equipped to handle. 

Her nips were stiff, almost fighting to pierce her suit, and tender enough against the smooth touch of its fabric to have her breathing hot and heavy. She had to free herself from this maddening heat, and did so by pulling her arms free of her suit so that it lay flaccid around her waist. Her upper body was completely exposed to the cool night air, bare and unprotected from her deviating hands drifting over her soft, pale skin without permission. Hana cupped her small but supple breasts and squeezed them, gently at first, until her body grew impatient with her inhibition, and she clutched them all the tighter. She bit her lower lip as she circled her fingers over her little brown areola, and sucked air sharply between her teeth as she pinched them, again and again and again, until her chest flared red and she was humming with pleasure. 

By now the light little tingles between her thighs had turned to something harsher, something needier, something that had her folding her legs over one another, squirming to fight her urge to touch herself, but taking pleasure in her thighs pressed tight around her crotch. Hana could feel the patch of moisture growing on the crotch of her flight suit too.  
“Nobody’s going to see you,” she whispered out into the void. This time she believed herself. She slipped a hand down her suit, enjoying the sensation of her fingers gliding over her stomach, tickling her belly button, drifting over her mound and through her trimmed black pubes. Her soul seemed to melt as her touch met her clit, and she had to slip a finger between her lips to keep herself from squealing out in delight. She suckled that finger harshly, imagining it to be something else entirely, as her legs began to tremble with little jolts of ecstasy. 

After rubbing a few circles over the little bead, her flingers traveled lower still, rubbing up on her lips again (the lower ones this time), before slipping between them altogether. Hana cried out, long and loud, as she entered herself, entirely unable to hold her voice back any longer. Who was the woman of steel who could? In her mind, she saw crowds of her fans again, cheering her name in adoration, in worship, and wondered if they’d still do the same if they could see her now, her face flushed, her voice light and quivering, and her body twisting and arching with pleasure. Maybe, just maybe, they’d call her a slut. Maybe they’d cheer it when she took the stage at her latest StarCraft tournament. “Slut! Slut! Slut!” She heard them as if they were right there, surrounding her, and the mere thought had her pussy squeezing tight around her finger. 

She was so wet, too wet, wet enough that she could hear even the slightest movements inside herself. She should have been ashamed of herself. Yet her hand kept thrusting, and she kept moaning, riveted by her middle finger, before the index and ring fingers joined it, tickling that g-spot until her walls were dancing. 

Then, madness. What if I went lower? What if she could fill all three holes at once? The mere suggestion excited her so much that her body reacted long before her mind could process its actions. She pulled her fingers free of herself, giggling at how hard her pussy tightened to keep them from escaping, and began to rub little circles around her rim. There was no way her ass could possibly feel good to touch, at least not in that way, she thought to herself as familiar tingles lit up her tiny ring. But she’d seen enough porn to know that wasn’t true, and the contented sigh pushed out of her lips by a devious finger entering places it shouldn’t have was more than enough evidence than she’d ever need. Oh, it was a strange sensation, of that there was no doubt. It might even have hurt if she weren’t so thoroughly coated in her own juices. But it wasn’t an unpleasant one, not at all.  
The world disappeared then. Only she remained, a finger between her lips, hugged by her tongue, another hilted in her ass, and a thumb filling the void within her needy pussy. Her holes gripped tight, so she pumped her wrist harder, and harder, and harder, until her body was nothing but a fiery ball of aroused heat, rippling with pleasure that sparkled along her nerves like lightning. Her breath caught in her throat, her back arched, muscles tensed, everything tightening, tightening, tightening, for a moment that felt like it was stretched out forever and a day, before it all came crashing down. 

Her whole body seemed to pulse to the beat of her contractions. A little wet jet fired off between her thighs turning the moist stain on her flight suit into a soaked mess. It was only once she finally took a breath again, just barely catching air before her chest pulled tight once more, that she noticed her heart hammering so hard she swore it would burst out of her chest. A few seconds later and her breaths were long and languid, her moans having died down, and her body having finally relaxed into a puddle of jelly draped over her mech. Life felt good in that moment, too good to be real, so good she never wanted it to end. 

But the world had other plans for her. Suddenly her Com unit was lighting up with distress signals calling for Operator D.Va to take to the skies once again. A hero’s work was never done, it seemed. But with a break like that to get back in touch with Hana Song every now and then… maybe, just maybe, she could live with that.


End file.
